As he was getting ready to open the penthouse's front door, Akihito heard voices on the other side of it.
He glanced at his wristwatch, surprised that Asami had returned home so soon that day. It was barely 6 p.m. and the photographer had not expected the business man to be back for at least another 6 hours.
He turned the key on its lock and pushed the door open, but instead of finding his lover and his trusty assistant in the hallway, his eyes fell upon a man he'd never seen before.
Surprise must have been evident in Akihito's features at the time, but the same could be said of the strange man's reaction to him.
The former frowned at the sight of the photographer, as if he thought Akihito did not belong in that picture, but the look in question only ended up lasting a few seconds.
Soon the man's lips curled upwards in an imperceptible smile, and he turned his face back to Kirishima, who was standing beside him in the genkan.
"Ah, Takaba-kun, I see you have returned home for the day." Asami's assistant said, breaking the momentary spell in which the young man had fallen.
"Dr. Murakami," He added, addressing the stranger. "May I present to you Takaba Akihito, Asami-sama's…distant cousin." He lied, while casting a stern gaze at the photographer who was eyeing him as if he'd gone mental all of a sudden.
"Takaba-kun has been staying with Asami-sama while he finishes his master's degree in Photography at Tokyo University. Isn't that right, Takaba-kun?"
Akihito's eyes went from the assistant to the so-called doctor, back to the assistant again.
"I…guess so."
Judging by Murakami-san's amused expression though, Akihito doubted the man had bought into the lie.
"As I was saying Kirishima-san," The doctor said, ignoring Akihito for the time being. "I would have preferred that he'd spent the night at the hospital in observation, but having been his personal doctor for the past eight years, I have long ago learned that it is a waste of time to argue against Asami Ryuichi's willpower." The man sighed in defeat. "I have given him a mild sedative to help with the pain and allow him to sleep, but its effect is only temporary, I'm afraid. Here's a prescription for a stronger painkiller. Please make sure he takes it if the pain becomes too unbearable. He has a tendency to refuse to take medication." The doctor passed on a piece of paper to Kirishima as he said so, but Akihito barely registered the action.
His eyes were glued on Murakami-san's face, his body frozen by the man's words. Hospital? Painkillers?
He was aware his voice was trembling as he spoke. "Is something wrong with Asami?"
"…Asami-sama's limo was involved in a car crash earlier today." Kirishima explained, and sensing that the photographer was about to panic, he quickly added: "He did not suffer any major injuries, but he was not wearing his seatbelt at the time, and ended up dislocating his shoulder... We just came back from the hospital where Dr. Murakami and his team had it fixed."
Akihito let out a breath of relief.
"I shall be going now then." The doctor resumed, while eyeing the younger man with curiosity. "I'll be back in the morning to check up on him." He told Kirishima as he walked towards the front door.
"Ah yes, one last thing," Murakami-san added, looking over his shoulder at the two men. "It is imperative that Asami-san is not subjected to any sort of physical strain or exercise over the next coming week. His shoulder is far too tender and any type of physical exertion might worsen his injury." His eyes suddenly fixed themselves solely on Akihito. "…And I do mean any type of physical exertion." He warned; the same amused smile as before appearing on his lips.
"What was that all about?" Akihito thought as the doctor disappeared from view, unexpectedly finding his cheeks hot to the touch.
Did the doctor know about him and Asami?
He turned round to find Kirishima putting on his coat, the same stern look he'd given the photographer earlier, still present on his face. Akihito didn't bother with it though. He was returning the look in much the same way.
"Asami's distant cousin? Really? Was that the best you could think of?" He asked, frowning.
"What would you have me tell Dr. Murakami? That you're Asami-sama's housekeeper?"
"How about the truth?"
It was Kirishima's turn to eye Akihito as if the younger man had gone mental.
"And risk having the news of your relationship with Asami-sama being gossiped all around Tokyo before the day is over? Dr. Murakami moves in the highest social circuits, young man. I'll be damned if he's to find out that Asami-sama is romantically involved with such an irresponsible brat as you!"
"Hey!"
Kirishima stuffed the doctor's prescription into his coat's pocket. "Oh, Takaba-kun, I'm afraid you still have much to learn about the intricacies of VIP social circuits. A man as important as Asami-sama cannot risk having his private life exposed. Why, if people were to know you are living with him as his lover, they'd think-"
Akihito huffed. "Like Asami would ever care about what people think!"
"Will you keep your voice down? ! You'll end up waking Asami-sama up." Kirishima hissed. "Now, I'm going out for a while to fetch his meds and attend a meeting on his behalf at the office. I'll return in a couple of hours. In the meantime, you are not, and I repeat, you are not to disturb his sleep under any circumstances. Are we clear, Takaba Akihito? I do not want you anywhere near Asami-sama's bedroom. He needs to rest."
The photographer had to bite his tongue not to curse at the older man.
"I asked, are we clear?"
"Fine!" Akihito mumbled reluctantly.
"Good. I'll see you again in a couple of hours then." Kirishima retorted, walking past the photographer towards the door.
As soon as the front door closed behind him though, Akihito started walking towards Asami's master suite. "The hell I'll stay away from him." He thought.
Was Kirishima kidding or something? The man tells him his lover was injured in a car crash and Akihito is expected to not even go see what state Asami is in?
He was so infuriated with the assistant that he all but marched inside the bedroom, his feet thumping noisily on the floorboards, but as soon as Asami came into view, Akihito stopped dead on his tracks.
The business man was lying in bed, his naked upper torso propped up by a couple of pillows. A long strip of bandage was wrapped around his upper left arm and shoulder, and although he appeared to be sleeping, his slumber did not seem at all peaceful, as he'd frown every so often like if he was in pain.
For a moment, Akihito's earlier apprehension came back. There was an ugly bruise on Asami's forehead and his right wrist was bandaged too.
So the dislocated shoulder had not been his lover's only injury…
Silently, the photographer dropped his camera bag on the wooden floor and made his way to the king size bed, crawling over the sheets until he reached Asami's right side and laid his head on the man's good shoulder.
When he felt his lover's arm circling round his lower back, pulling him closer, he knew Asami was awake.
"Does your shoulder hurt?" Akihito asked quietly, wrapping his arm round the older man's stomach in return.
"…No."
"Liar." The photographer said, hearing Asami chuckle in reply.
When the latter felt the warmth of the comforter that covered him being removed, he opened his eyes to find Akihito pulling it up and away from him, while looking down at his lower body, which also happened to be devoid of clothes at the time.
"What's this? Are you planning on assaulting an injured, defenseless man, Akihito?" Asami asked amused.
"I'm checking to see if you're injured anywhere else, you baka…And I'd hardly consider you of all people 'defenseless'."
"I suppose not." The business man grinned, and pulled Akihito upwards with his good arm, so that the younger man ended up lying along his torso.
Before the photographer had a chance to protest, Asami captured his lips with his own, coaching them to part with a gentle swipe of his tongue.
Akihito tried to pull back, but as the older man intensified the kiss, the former's body grew soft and pliable and he relaxed against his lover's hold.
It was only when he felt Asami's right hand travel downwards, attempting to unbutton his jeans that he broke the kiss, face flushed, breathing ragged.
"H-Hey, your doctor said you shouldn't…"
"And since when do I care about what doctors say?" The business man grinned, quickly moving in for another kiss.
Akihito was quicker though, moving up and away from Asami's reach. "Well, you're going to this time." He said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "And don't give me that look, ok?. Kirishima-san would kill me if your shoulder got worse because of me!"
"Don't mind that guy. He's been a nuisance all day long. He's got himself convinced that if he'd been the one driving the limo, he could have avoided the crash." Asami said, wincing in pain as he tried to move against one of the pillows.
"Can…Can I get you anything? For the pain?"
"Yes…As a matter of fact you can." The older man said, stretching his good arm towards Akihito over the bedsheets. "You."
The young men tried hard not to blush as he crawled back towards Asami, lying his head back down on the man's good shoulder.
He felt the business man's lips brush against the top of his forehead, while the former's right hand came up to ruffle his hair; the feeling sending a nice tingling sensation down Akihito's spine.
"I heard you arguing with Kirishima on the hallway by the way." Asami confessed, his voice groggy with sleep.
"Oh…about that,…"
"You were right... I couldn't care less what people think of us." He mumbled, just before the sedative finally won him over and Asami was carried off to dreamland… failing to see Akihito's sheepish smile.
(sometime afterwards)
Kirishima Key could sense something was off the second he stepped into the apartment.
He shut the front door, switching the bag of meds from one hand to the other, and immediately narrowed his eyes, scanning the premises, although for what he could not tell.
It took him awhile to figure out the source of his uneasiness, but it eventually came to him… Kirishima didn't hear him. In fact, he didn't hear anything. The penthouse was dead silent despite the early hour.
Most nights when he went past the apartment around 8 p.m. to pick up some paperwork his boss needed, he'd find the place in total chaos.
The TV would be turned on on some random music channel, blasting rap music so loud through its speakers that he was surprised the neighbors had never issued a complaint to the building's management committee.
There would be trainers, random pieces of clothing and camera equipment discarded along the floor of the hallway, and the kitchen would be in a flurry of activity.
All in all, a clear sign that Takaba Akihito was in the house, disrupting its peace and quiet.
The assistant frowned, looking down at the genkan's floor and spotting the trainers the photographer had on earlier that day. A sign Akihito was still in the apartment.
His eyes travelled from the genkan to the door on the far side of the hallway, which had been closed when he'd left to pick up the meds and was now half opened.
"I knew it." Kirishima thought, while swiftly making his way down the hallway and into his boss' master suite. "That kid cannot take no for an answer. Poor Asami-sama! Having his rest disturbed-"
Kirishima's gasp echoed through the house, as soon as Asami's bed came into view. A sleeping Akihito was glued to the man's side, half his body lying on the former's torso, while his right hand rested over the bandage covering Asami's shoulder…Asami's very much injured shoulder.
The offence being perpetrated against his boss was far too much for Kirishima to bear. "Is that kid mental or something?" He felt like shouting out loud, as he approached the bed intent on yanking the photographer away from the injured man.
However, as soon as his fingers brushed Akihito's arm, Asami's voice made him freeze mid-action.
"Don't even think about it." The older man said, opening his eyes and looking sideways at his assistant.
"But Asami-sama!"
"He stays here." He mumbled tiredly, and to seal his words, Asami pulled Akihito further closer to himself.
His assistant sighed in defeat. Like Dr. Murakami, he too knew there was no point in arguing with the other man.
"At least take the pain medication that your doctor prescribed to you, Asami-sama." Kirishima said, showing him the pharmacy bag in his hand, but even to that his boss said no.
"Don't need them." Asami retorted, his eyelids dropping low.
He turned his head, burying half his face on Akihito's unruly hair. "He's all the pain medication I need." The injured man said, drifting back to sleep.
Kirishima moved away and closed the door of the master suite, leaving the couple alone to sleep in peace.
He supposed he could find it in him to forgive the kid this time.
The End